Best Horns Poems
halo
shiny, lustrous
gleaming, shimmering, glowing
adornment, antler, spike, point
intimidating, troubling, scaring
pointy, devilish
horns
Sponsor: Dr. Ram Mehta
Contest:Diamente
October 24, 2013
dinosaurs tilt horns
circle and protect their young....
snarling snapping rex
They were originally installed to scare livestock off of the road,
but now they're used simply because people don't have any self control.
If I had my way I'd remove every horn from every automobile.
They now only add to the noise pollution that none of us need to hear.
Like a buffalo stampede
On a march unimpeded
By rock nor barrier
By lock nor river
Chop them into timber
Leave then blue and limber
Like a freshly uncovered thorn
Born hungry for the throne
A raging bull into the bullfight
Charging matador in a red suit of lights
Endure every crushing pain
With every tackle, a yard you gain
Turn the Sharks into sushi
Give it chopsticks like a rice patty
Crushed into compost with every blade of grass
Unstoppable with each rumbling, accurate pass
A bull on the rampage
A ball in the try stage
Count every drop of sweat
Forgive no sins for decent
Toast every bloody nose
It’s a blue flood they face
Sound the victory horn
For the blue bloodline
A tribute to
The Blue Bulls
Kangaroos look funny in horns and underoos
Nothing like the holidays down under…
So many sweets to taste and plunder…
Mistletoe hung over head…
Sweet dreams in our slumbering bed…
The jolly man shimmying down
The hot family hearths
Not making a sound making his rounds
Asbestos underwear protecting his parts
The sweaty old boy in red
Cursing the heat of points this far south
While blimey citizens are snug in bed
Explicatives flowing from his mouth
Merry Christmas to all those down under
And happy New Year a day bloody sooner
Having no snow is a god awful blunder
The whole island should be sat in a corner!
Rlm ‘10
Take the bull by the horns
You may find blisters corns
But man be brave
You'll surely pave
The way to your new morns
Though she holds the greatest of horns
Smack dab on her head with thorns
She sees herself as good
With a smart body and hood
A devil she mocks, she surely did mourn
Russell Sivey
Old Jack Walton-Horn was a mighty old boy.
He was a farmer full of joy.
He harvest corn.
His son was name John.
_________________________|
Penned on May 17, 2014!
Say, oh!
It must be some sort of a Day!
Streets are bristling in baskets and laughter.
Shop fronts floating in banners,
and somewhere....
The concrete under our feet
Throbs with beginning, distant beat.
Motorcycle putt
Two by two
Stern-faced riders
Dark in blue
Legions of boots and brown,
Their arms fling high and back
Hats cocked, unfurling like salute.
Swing stick switches
Left foot...right! With the snap
A silken tassel twitches
And the horns behind the column crack
Suddenly, the breathless beating air!
Snatches of the melody are familiar.
Golden trumpets raise their throats to catch the sun,
Blaring open-mouthed triumphant chorus-
Good, we are good!
Strong, we are strong!
Warriors, honorable and glorious!
The drumbeat measures out in disappearing lines
Gradually, gently diminishing to perspective.
The taste of glory ages and dries upon the years
Where crumpled paper scrapes along the wind
And traffic lights go red and green again.
Horn's Of Destiny
My first solo vacation
was to New York City
Instead of glitter were streets
over crowded and gritty.
The famed Big Apple held
millions in homeless captivity
expressions of poverty full
of elusive ambiguity.
I observed thick wavy steam
rising from the street
sewer vapors escaped,
tainting the noon heat.
At dusk I crawled onto the
fire escape to cool down
when ten seconds of silence
fell over down town.
Gun shots rang out as
explosions lit the night sky
screaming grew louder as
the shrapnel began to fly.
Atop our building police
snipers were perched
ground patrols hid in
shadows their purpose to search.
As sunrise approached,
devastation was at our doors
Distant groans from injuries
seep from her pores.
Three days later the riots
ceased and regressed
out from the ruins came
warrior's strong and blessed
Rolling up their sleeve's
together they rebuilt
the city they call home
with pride, free of guilt
The Horns of Destiny shook
a sleeping giant woke
as warriors appeared
from inside the smoke
Tried by fire, hardened
like steel and free of dross
arose the sleeping giants
searching for their lost
Glittering seeds born from
streets I found so gritty
soul of the Apple and
true grit of New York City
Copyright©2011 Carole Cookie Arnold
I want to stop these fingers
As I want to stop this brain
To be dominated by mind's splinters
Those words which unuttered to be complained
I want to close my ears
As they whisper from my heart to my mind's gears
No gate can stop them, wandering like a keen spears
If only numbness could be gained just by glasses of beers
I want flowers, sweets and beauties
To dispel all the anxieties and insecurities
But devil besides me
Replace the angel of my sanity
I am timid
To release my self from dungeon of rules and ethic
To break my inability and my limit
To be undressed from this boring gimmick
Butterfly flies out of cocoon
Counting time from seconds to days
Making my own sun in my very noon
While collecting diamonds in my own ways
~ Colds it’s bad enough ~ people have their own issues ~
22/01/2021
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
12 syllables
I have you in my sight
Far behind those thorns
On a mountain so high
Between the devil's horns
Where a fake smile on my face
And heaven under my feet
Somehow seem out of place
For its you who causes my beat
Shall I rise and draw my sword
All crippled and face the beast
As I’m a pillar that carries my world
Shall I move and risk my seat
Let it fall to please myself
As I might forever perish?
Or let it dust up on a shelf
Obedient to the morals I cherish?
his horns curled in times
the fleeting glance of Billy
old, but still handsome
foo reel dough
dat foo reel yo
how dat feel yo
dat foo reel yo
dim whack azz beets
dos whack azz horns
what foo reel yo
dat's foo reel yo
reely dough! reely dough!